


Old Black Magic (That You Weave So Well)

by rosewiththorns



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Detroit Red Wings, Fondling, Kissing, Kneeling, Locker Room Sex, M/M, Magic, Oral Sex, Sexual Submission, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2016-04-19
Packaged: 2018-06-03 04:04:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6595897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosewiththorns/pseuds/rosewiththorns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pavel is happy Hank scored. Very short but hopefully sweet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Black Magic (That You Weave So Well)

**Author's Note:**

> Set after Game Three of the Detroit-Tampa series.
> 
> All dialogue occurs via a telepathic bond. 
> 
> I know I’ve gotten a lot of requests lately, and I’ll try to get to them soon, but right now, I’m inspired by current events, so I’ll probably save the requests for the off-season (which hopefully won’t come for awhile.)

“That old black magic has me in its spell, that old black magic that you weave so well.”—Johnny Mercer

Old Black Magic (That You Weave So Well) 

“You score twice.” Eyes twinkling like bubbles in sparkling wine, Pavel sank to his knees before Hank’s stall once the prying reporters and excited teammates had trickled out—preparing to meet pressing deadlines with media or mattresses—and they were left alone, his movements as sinuously seductive as his thought flowing from his mind into Hank’s, tingling like static electricity. 

“Not twice.” Hank’s correction was a chuckle as he ran a hand along Pavel’s jawline, slid the palm along Pavel’s collar bone, and slipped his fingers under Pavel’s shirt to fiddle with nipples that perked up from his attentions. “I scored once, but it got reviewed twice. Learn to count, Pav.” 

“There are better uses for my time.” Pavel’s hands stroked and squeezed at Hank’s thighs, tender touches from calloused palms and fingers that were somehow strong enough to not only be felt through denim but hold them together for a lifetime. Feeling his dick swell in his boxers already, Hank figured that he must be setting some kind of erection speed record. Taking notice of the tent in Hank’s pants, Pavel gestured at the lump between Hank’s legs, observing playfully, “I could take care of that for you, for instance.” 

Deciding to punish Pavel for his impudence, Hank captured Pavel’s chin and brought his lips to Pavel’s. “Not with your hands—“ Hank nudged Pavel’s mouth apart with his tongue and explored the caverns of Pavel’s cheeks with it before releasing Pavel —“but with your lips and tongue.” 

“But my hands are magic.” Pavel, by some miracle or dark art, managed to pout while unzipping Hank’s jeans with his teeth. 

“I know.” Hank gasped as Pavel’s tongue swished through a gap in his boxers and swirled around the tip of his penis, lapping at it as if it were an ice cream cone. Aroused, he dropped a hand between Pavel’s legs, tugged down Pavel’s pants and briefs, and stroked the length of Pavel’s cock, drawing a moan from Pavel that was muffled by the dick Hank was thrusting deeply into his throat. “Believe me, I know, but a new challenge is good for you.” 

“Easy for you to say.” Breathless and blushing, Pavel pumped into Hank’s palm. “You’re a total beast.” 

“Because I score?” Hank teased, as his throbbing cock pounded ever further into Pavel’s eager mouth. 

“No.” Pavel thrashed against Hank’s hand, rabid and on the verge of release. “Because you have a better playoff beard than me, but only because you have a head-start.” 

“You could have the same head-start if you wanted.” With a shudder that rocked his body from top to toe, Hank shot a stream of semen onto Pavel’s wriggling tongue. “Grow a beard during the regular season.” 

“Don’t be silly.” Pavel came in a warm squirt in Hank’s palm. “A regular season beard is for a rugged Swede, not a majestic Russian. Get with the program.”


End file.
